Not yet, at least.
Being the older of us, I tend to try and shield my parents as much as I can. Why? I don’t know because they dealt with everything Jared went through. Actually I do know. We have the best parents, and I don’t want either of them to think what’s going on with Rhett is their fault. Mom gave up her career for us, and Dad gave up a lot of sleep. I can remember him shuffling in to school graduations with a cup of coffee in his hand, and it being obvious he hadn’t slept for maybe days. Then he’d be back on an airplane the next morning. Both of them went above and beyond in ways we may not have understood then, but I do now.
When I look up, I’m in front of Montgomery’s door with no recollection as to how I got here from my SUV. Shaking my head to make sure it’s clear, I knock with a purpose. “Montgomery,” I call out. “It’s me. I need to talk to you.”
She opens the door, judging by the tears running down her cheeks and the redness in her eyes, she’s had her own issues with RJ.
“C’mon in,” she invites softly.
“Has he been here?”
“No, he just called me a little while ago. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but he’s not taking care of himself.” She has a seat on her couch, holding her stomach with her arms. “He said some pretty awful things.”
“Yeah, he did the same with me too. I was hoping maybe he’d confided in you.”
A slight whimper works its way out of her chest. “No, he didn’t confide, more like blamed me.”
“Fuck.” I rub my hand over my face. “This is worse than I thought.”
“Yeah.” She nods. “But what do we do at this point? The worst part is, I don’t know what set him off. We were doing well. I told him when he came back around that I wasn’t ready to do this with him again. Having the father I do, I was afraid he’d relapse and he took it as a challenge to be the RJ I fell in love with. We were doing it right. Talking to each other the way we shoulda been. We’d actually been on a few dates lately. He stayed over here the other night, and things were perfect.” Her lip trembles and more tears slide down her cheeks.
“Unfortunately, I think that’s the issue with him, when things get too good, he self-destructs.”
“How many times am I gonna deal with this EJ? Like when do I say enough is enough?”
I’m at a loss for words. I never want her to be at the end, I know she’s part of the only reason RJ holds it together as well as he does. Even if it’s held by a shoestring and a damn prayer. “Only you can determine when that is, but as his brother I’m always going to wish there’s hope for you two. I see how happy you make him.”
“Do I?” She points a finger to her chest. “But what about me? When do I get to be happy? You’re lucky, you and Bri have the kind of relationship where you don’t have to work.”
“No, we do have to work.” I think to the reason we’re about to take this trip. “Things from the outside always look different than from the inside,” I remind her.
“Exactly. That’s what I’m trying to say. Things look different to everyone. You see how happy I make him, I see how anxious I make him. I don’t know if there’s ever going to be a good ending for us.”
For the first time in a long while, I look at her. Really look at her. The blue eyes of hers look almost dead inside, and I admit to myself that maybe RJ isn’t who she needs, and perhaps he never will be.
“Regardless of the decision you make” - I go over to where she is, holding my hands out to her, helping her stand up. “ -know you’re always gonna be a part of my family.”
She dissolves in my arms, sobbing, as I rub my hands up and down here back, praying that the broken pieces of RJ don’t break us all in return.
Reaching over, I grab my phone and text my dad. Letting him know we have to find RJ, and hoping he can be the one to do it.
When he texts me back in response that RJ’s been there, and they’re on the way to see his sponsor, I breathe for the first time since he left the studio.
Chapter Nineteen
Bri
Halloween
“Do you think people will get it?” I grin as I stand in front of Everett, wearing a shirt that says EJ’s Girl, much like the one Harmony wore so many years ago. It took a little work, but we were able to use the original shirt that Kristen gave us.
“If they don’t, they’re fuckin’ stupid,” he chuckles. “Especially when they see me.”
He’s right about that. If I saw him on the street and didn’t know he was Everett, I would mistake him for Reaper. In this instance, there’s no doubt whether they’re related or not. He’s wearing a bandana under his hat, turned backward with aviators and a shirt with the sleeves cut off. The only thing separating the two of them is their tattoos.
“Should I curl my hair? That’s how your mom always seemed to wear it. Either like that or in a braid. Which do you think?”
He tilts his head to the side, seeming to think seriously. “I hardly ever see you with your hair curly. Do that, and do a dark face. It reminds me of one of the first pictures I ever saw of my mom after they started dating. She went to their concert here in Nashville.”
“Oh right! I bet I can find it on the internet. I can probably get pretty close to how she looked, as long as that doesn’t freak you out.”
“It doesn’t, I think they’d love it. They’re totally gonna get a kick out of this.”
“I hope so! I can’t wait to see the response when we post on social media.”
Walking to our bathroom, I quickly reach down and grab my curling iron, plugging it in. EJ follows, a look on his face. “Have you noticed anything going on with RJ lately?” He asks carefully. He sits on the bathtub, clasping his hands in front of him.
I take a seat, spreading my makeup out in front of me, picking out the darkest colors I have. “What do you mean?”
“I hate to say this, but I’m wondering if he’s using again. There’s certain things he does when I know he’s not completely clean, and I see them happening,” he sighs.
“Then why are you asking me if I notice it.” I rub my foundation with my blender. “If you already know, what am I going to tell you that’s different?”
He takes off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. “I dunno. Sometimes I wonder if I’m not hard on him, if I look for shit that isn’t there because of his past. We shouldn’t judge people by their pasts, but it’s hard. He’s been doing so well.”
“People aren’t always as good as they seem,” I remind him, my brain stopping, memory bank firing. There was a time in my life where I wasn’t good at all, but I had to hide it, because it wasn’t okay for my fans or the people I worked with to know I wasn’t handling fame the way everyone thought I should.
“You don’t think I know that? Some days, when I get tagged on social media in awful reviews about our albums, I wanna throw down and beat some ass. When they do it to you, I’d like to find them and ask who hurt them as a kid. I don’t know when the thing to do became criticizing. Roasting is one thing, but hurtful criticism just to be hurtful is the worst thing that’s ever happened to us as a people.”
EJ’s fired up now, and I have to fully agree with him, I don’t know when we became okay with this as a society, but as public figures, we’re told to deal with it. We have to have a thick skin, but I’d venture to say most everyday types wouldn’t be able to handle it. “You’re preachin’ to the choir, babe. You and I both know how hard it is, but people who sit behind their keyboards and act like they’re perfect will never understand. We’ll always owe them something because they purchased tickets to our concerts or paid a dollar twenty-nine for what they saw was the best song off our albums. It’s bullshit. Both of us know it, but in their heads they made us and we owe every single thing to them.”
He rubs his jeans with the palms of his hands. “I know neither one of us have a solution and we’re both stuck in this same circle of bullshit. I’m sorry, we’re supposed to be having fun tonight, not rehashing why it sucks to be
artists.”
I laugh. “I wouldn’t say it sucks, but it’s definitely one part of the profession nobody really warned me about. I mean you see it on other artists Instagram’s and social media pages, but it doesn’t sink in until you get your first person who’s a dick.”
Ohh, I like that,” he says as he stands up and gets closer to me. “The dark color on your eyes, it’s hot.”
“Yeah? What’s so hot about it?”
His dimples pop. “Something about a girl with dark eye makeup and eyeliner. It’s like you want to make that eyeliner run.”
“By making her cry?”
“Hell no, by either putting your cock far enough in her mouth to make her eyes water, or because you’ve worked up such a sweat with one another.”
I clear my throat, my eyes meeting his in the mirror. “Anybody ever tell you, you got a way with words, Thompson?”
His presence behind me is huge, much like he is on the stage. Every bit of oxygen is sucked out of the room when he looks at me like he doesn’t care what we have planned. If it were up to him, he’d have me naked and my thighs spread before him on any available service. One of the many things I love about my husband.
“Maybe once or twice.” His fingers dig into my hair, applying enough pressure so that I twist around, fusing my lips to his.
We aren’t alone, in fact there’s a small army of people downstairs getting the house ready for the party we’re throwing tonight. More than once, Hannah’s come through our bedroom door, looking for an answer to a question she was unsure of. But neither one of us seem to care right at this moment. His tongue crashes against the roof of my mouth, tangling with mine as I fight to turn around, to be able to touch him. My man though, he doesn’t allow it. He presses against the chair, using his weight to keep me right where I am. “What are you doing Everett?” I whisper when he pulls our lips apart.
“Just give me five minutes.” His breath is harsh against my neck.
“We don’t know if we have five minutes,” I remind him.
In answer he uses the strength of his fingers to tilt my head to the side, exposing my neck. He bites, harder than he’s ever bitten before, causing me to grip the edge of my vanity, digging my nails into the wood, trying to keep myself upright. “Ahhh,” I moan as he licks across the back of my neck, taking the other side with the same enthusiasm as before. His free hand comes down around my throat, gripping semi-tightly.
The growl he lets loose in my ear when I ease back into his arms is enough to make me wish we were already on vacation. Squeezing slightly before letting go, that hand goes down the front of my shirt, cupping my breast through my bra, his thumb worrying my already-hard nipple back and forth.
“Look at us,” his passion-drenched voice commands.
Lazily, I open my eyes, taking in the sight of the two of us. Me looking fucking love-drunk, and him behind me, looking like a whole lot of trouble. Back over to the left-side he moves, this time going up to my ear, tugging on the diamond stud I wear, thrashing his tongue back and forth, nipping slightly and then trailing along the extended tendon of my throat, sucking at the juncture of my neck and shoulder. God, more than anything, I want to turn around and let him take me.
His hand sneaks it’s way under the lace of my bra, holding my bare breast in his palm now, weighing it, gripping it so that the distended nub stabs his palm.
“Shit…” I tilt my head back against his shoulder, panting, thrusting my hips at the air, wishing for some relief to the ache between my thighs. Pulling my lip between my teeth, I bite it, hoping for a goddamn distraction. “What are you fucking doing to me?” My jaw loosens, trying to suck in more air; my eyes, unfocused and watering are glancing up to the ceiling making me feel as if I’m in some sort of dream.
“Trying to frustrate you the way you frustrate me every single day.”
His voice is dark, full of promise, and everything I love. His thumb and forefinger squeeze my nipple before he bites down harder on my neck. I’m about to break his hold and turn around when cold water gets splashed on the two of us.
“Bri, do you care where they set up the ice cream bar?”
Hannah’s voice carries through the bedroom into the bathroom, causing us to jump apart like two teenagers caught in the backseat of their parents’ car. I reach up, fixing the edges of my eyes, the slightly smeared lipstick. “No.” I hope my voice sounds normal. EJ sits back on the bathtub again, his hands folded in his lap in what appears to be a haphazard fashion. Hopefully only I know it’s covering what has to be a hard length. “They can put it wherever it fits best. We should be down in a few minutes.”
Hannah looks at me, nostalgia showing brightly in her eyes. “Oh my God! You’re me, and he’s him,” she claps her hands together.
“Just have to curl this hair.” I run my fingers through it, trying to tame the pieces Everett mussed. “It’s a mess, it’ll only take a few minutes.”
“You look beautiful. See you two down there.”
When she leaves, EJ gets up, coming back over to me. He reaches down, putting his finger under my chin, bringing it back around to face him. “Shit, it’s one thing to hide a hard on from your mom when you’re fifteen, it’s a totally different thing when you’re married and the pussy you know is yours is inches away.”
I lick my lips. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He smirks before exiting the bathroom, leaving me to my own thoughts. Oh yes, I sigh. I most definitely would like to know.
Chapter Twenty
Bri
“Oh my God, look at the two of you!” She isn’t the first person to make a big deal about our costumes, but I know how important Shell is to the Thompson family.
“Do you think we pulled it off?” I hold Everett around the waist with one hand, my drink in another.
“I think they just need to hand the baton to the both of you. It’s obvious you’re the new Reaper and Harmony.”
Somehow her praise makes me uncomfortable. I don’t really want to be the next anything, I’d like to be the first of us. Without expectation and the memories of the first to ever do it hanging over us. I don’t know what to say in response, but luckily EJ picks it up for me.
“It’s an honor you think so. We’re just trying to be ourselves. Did Montgomery make it?”
If there’s anything he knows how to do, it’s move the situation on, and I’m thankful for that every time he does it.
“Yeah, she’s over there.” Shell points, a frown marring her face.
Montgomery and RJ look to be in some sort of heated conversation. I wish I could hear what they were saying, because whatever it is, Montgomery appears to be upset. In this moment I wish the two of us were closer. More than anything it looks like she needs a friend.
“Well,” Shell continues, “I just wanted to tell you two how cute I think your costume is. I’ll be seeing you.”
As she leaves, I turn to face EJ. “Do you think someone needs to go over there and help her?”
“I don’t know,” he sighs, running a hand over his stubble. “Halloween is such a dicey holiday for everyone involved with Black Friday and our families. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, but I seriously just wanted to have a good time with everybody.”
“Why is it dicey?”
I know some of the Black Friday lore, but not all of it. People have been making slight references all night to something that happened, and while I’ve tried to be respectful, now I just want to know.
“Come on, let’s go out back for a minute.”
He downs the drink in his hand, and then takes mine, doing the same. Seems like he’s going to need some liquid courage to get through whatever it is he needs to tell me. We walk all the way to the end of our backyard, where there’s no one around.
“Is it this bad?”
He nods. “It happened the Halloween Mom was pregnant with me. From what I’ve heard, and please understand it’s obviously se
cond-hand sources, Jared almost died that night. Things were going well for him up to that point, but something happened that night and he almost died. I don’t know what he took or what lead up to it, but I look at Rhett and I fear that for him. Not only do I fear that for him, but I do for Montgomery too. I talked to her not long ago, and she isn’t sure what’s happening with him either. Do you know how scary that is for me?”
I reach out, grabbing his hand. “I can. By the way you clam up whenever you think about it, the quietness that overtakes you. Whether you think so or not, I can tell. It’s in the way you hold it all in. Everything else you’re honest with me about, but your fear with RJ? You hold that so close to you. I want you to let me in, but I promise not to beg you. Whenever you feel like you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
“The past little bit, he just seems to be backsliding.” He tilts his head, causing me to look at where his eyes have fixated on something else.
There’s RJ, standing in our backyard. He’s talking to someone I don’t know, and they’ve just handed off something to one another. It appears to be in a plastic baggy, and I can’t believe he’s done a drug deal at our house. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yeah, that was exactly what you think it is.”
His shoulders are squared. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about my husband, it’s that he’s not afraid to make a scene. Judging by the waves of irritation flowing off his body, he wants to make one right now. Reaching over I grab his arm. “Not here, not where your mom or Montgomery can see. It needs to be discussed, but not right now.”
The tightening of his jaw says he wants to argue with me, but in the end, he gives in. “I hate seeing him do this to himself.”
“We all do.” I do my best to comfort him, rubbing my hand up and down his arm before entwining our fingers together. “He’ll come out of this.”
Breach of Contract: A Rocker Romance (The Nashvegas Series Book 2) Page 10
